Chapter VIII

To home, they arrive. An old scene to most, a new view to others. The Boy desperately tugs at the door, eyes beaming, soul seeping out into his 'territory'; Sao points out the keys for the Girl to retrieve from the left pocket of his cloak that she dons.

With the door unlocked, the Boy bursts into the house. Sparkles in his eyes, he spends his time searching every nook and cranny: from under the bed to the curtains, from the bedside drawer to the bathroom, then returning to under the bed. The bathroom locked, sent the Boy back to the carpet. His eyes grew lazy of the already familiar sights.

'If,' the Boy spurts, sitting from beside the bed, indenting his mark on the carpet he sits on, 'I'm going to be a hero like you, there's no time to-.'

'Tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow? But if I don't start now then…'

'I said TOMORROW! Jesus. What is it with kids nowadays, always wanting to be heroes? If I'm what you call a hero, I wouldn't call it aspirational, in the slightest. I mean look at me.'

The Boy closes his mouth like a bear trap and sits on the chair behind him, making acquaintance to the bed like a sidecar. The Girl lies Sao on the bed as she kneels on the floor next to him.

'Sooo…' the Boy begins, 'What's your name?' Happiness stretches the corners of his lips form cheek to cheek, squeezing his eyes into two rainbows.

Sao and the Girl both turn to him like it is the first time hearing a question of that nature. The boy turns to Sao first, eager for his hero's identity, practically falling out of the chair with anticipation. Switching his vision to the opposite side of the room, Sao sighs.

'I gave up my name a long time ago…'

'How can you give up a name?' The Boy questions, 'How do people talk to you?'

'That doesn't matter now. You'll understand one day.'

Hopping out of his seat, the boy shifts his focus to the girl, leaning over Sao and is insufficient answer.

'How about you? You're not saying you gave yours up as well?'

Wiping a lost tear on her cheek, she maintains an unfocused gaze at the floor.

'I can't say I have given my name up…'

'What is it then? Come on.'

'Well… I don't think I have ever had a name.'

A wave of shock vibrates the room. The boy's jaw drops, Sao almost sat up on the bed, but the pain brought him back down, and wipes his eyes. 'What did your parents call you?'

'I do not know who my parents are.'

The wave of shock rebounds from her words; the boy falls back into the chair in disbelief, like someone told him another world exists out of his own. 'How do you not know who your parents are? They are the people who raised you. Everyone has had them at one point or another.'

She sinks deeper into her gaze, picking up each particle as it passes by.

'I do not know why, but if that was my parent, then I'm happy that I do not have a name.'

'Why, what hap…?' The Boy begins to inquire but Sao cuts him off:

'Don't worry about that. You will find out another time.'

'Well, that's okay,' says the Boy, trying to pretend that his previous attempt to inquire had never happened, 'I haven't seen my parents in a while too, I hope I will soon. That's all I want, for now.' The Boy's face momentarily drops, but it is not long until his smile fights back to restoration. 'I guess I'll start then. My name's Akuma Maigo. At least that's what my village called me. I'm not very good with my village's native language – I was never taught as my parents often brought me to live in the towns surrounding during their business trips – so I don't know what it means.'

Standing back up off the chair, Akuma examines the girl's face. She freezes still, taken aback by Akuma's actions. His face brightens and raises a finger into the air. 'I've got it… your name can be… Hannah. It suits your eyes.'

Sao intervenes, 'Wait, you can't just…!'

Hannah's smile pauses Sao's release of frustration towards Akuma, "I love it." Hannah grabs Akuma and embraces him tightly, squashing Sao beneath them. Releasing him from her grasp, they turn towards Sao in unison:

'Then that leaves mister hero other there.'

Sweat trickled down Sao's cheek, he scratches the back of his neck, then he passes out in his bed.

'Wait, no.'

But it was too late, Sao had slipped into hibernation without a second thought, leaving the two alone to defend themselves.

Left, the two help themselves to the fridge, pulling out gourmet after gourmet meals; scents from across the land breathed flavour into the building: crabs from the south-east, escallop from the western range, rice smothered in paprika caravanned from the south-western desert regions. All of Plutus' imports brought to a single point, along the rural path that was not even given a name.

A resenting eye spies over the house, leaning against the side of a truck.

'Names; what is their purpose? Identification? Recognition? Validation of an existence brought by the calling of one's name? What is a name? Does it mean anything to the people who hold it, or the people who don't? Names, how pointless they are; but if you are nameless, no one calls your name. How lonely that is, Sao. Your name is too true as it is a façade, it is as you as it is another. I know this, you know this; you lie to yourself, yet the universe turns a blind eye; I do not. I will reveal your name, your lonely, pitiful name. The universe shall know Sao's name, and I have the privilege to be God's messenger angel, to enact judgement, or at least remind you of it. I plan on joining your company soon, Sao; if that is what you wish to be called, for now.